Living a dream
by KazraGirl
Summary: Self insertion fic, me taken to middle earth. Hopefully humerous, rated PG for quite a bit of swearing (well, wouldn't you?) Please R and R :) Chapter 14!
1. Arrival WTF?

Well, there I was. I was walking through the wooded cut to college, thinking about my latest fanfic and looking forward to seeing people's reactions when I realised that this trip was taking slightly longer than it usually did. I dragged my mind back to reality and focused my eyes on the path ahead of me. Where there should have been the wall of the sports hall on my left, there were trees. Dark trees.  
  
"Oh bloody hell." I muttered to myself. "I've only been walking the bloody path for six months! You'd think I knew it well enough not to get flaming lost!"  
  
Despite feeling like walking into the nearest tree to try and cure my stupidity, I had kept on walking. After all, I couldn't be /that/ far away from college and the wood wasn't that big. At worst, I'd end up in Ambleside.  
  
But the wood seemed to be slightly darker than it should, and I certainly didn't remember the trees being almost unfriendly. Off to the right of me, I saw a large pair of eyes glowing, and a voice hissed. "Precioussss."  
  
"Oh bugger off." I said automatically, and the eyes blinked and withdrew. Then I stopped dead.  
  
"Oh shit, is the first words that spring to mind Jen dear. Unless that was Geezer playing a practical joke, which he hasn't got the intelligence to, then I think…Oh fuck."  
  
Middle-Earth. That would explain the dark wood, unfamiliar path, and the thing with a 's' fetish.  
  
"Oh fuck." I repeated, before dropping to the ground. "That's the last bloody time I go /that/ way then! I'm well and truly bloody screwed!"  
  
It finally occurred to me to check the contents of my bag.  
  
"Lets see now. RE file, no use unless I need to teach orcs about Buddhism. Mind you, I could bludgeon them to death with the handouts. History file, useless unless anyone wants to write his or her name in Tudor writing. A bottle of water, that's useful. A folder of fanfics? Pretty much useless in this situation since I seem to be living one. A kitchen knife? How the hell did that get in there? Oh god." And memories of the previous night surfaced. I looked up, about to curse again, only to find an arrow inches from my nose. Then I took note of the man with the pointy ears (mental translation: elf) holding the bow.  
  
"Shit!"  
  
The guy standing next to him in green.  
  
"Double shit!"  
  
Legolas and Aragorn. Just what I needed!  
  
"What is she?" Legolas asked Aragorn.  
  
"She appears to be human." Aragorn replied.  
  
"She could be a spy."  
  
That did it. I'm usually a calm(ish) person, but being talked about in the 3rd person /really/ bugs me.  
  
"Oh put the arrow away." I said in my most sardonic voice. "I'm not going to turn rabid and gnaw your throat out. And besides, I'm 18, female, and holding a small knife. How much bloody harm could I do to one elf, aged 3000ish, with a bow, and reflexes like a cat on a hot tin roof?"  
  
I watched the pairs reaction.  
  
"She's got you there." Aragorn noted.  
  
Legolas slacked his grip, and the arrow was pointed away from me, but the elf still regarded me with suspicion.  
  
"I /do/ happen to be here." I continued in my own private rant. "So I'd appreciate it if you'd talk to me. In common please." I hastily added as Legolas whispered something to Aragorn in Elvish. "I can only speak about ten words of elvish, and most of those are insults."  
  
"Who are you?" Aragorn asked. "And where do you come from?"  
  
Well, at least one of the two was being civil while the other tried to practise his laser vision eye technique on my neck. If he was any good at it, I'd be looking at them from the ground.  
  
"Jen, from well, Earth?"  
  
/That/ got a reaction. Both stepped back and the bow once more orientated to bear on me.  
  
"You're not a Mary Sue are you?" Aragorn asked, voice almost seeming to quiver.  
  
Now that was a name that I didn't expect to hear here. Evidently Sueness was about in Middle-Earth.  
  
"Do I bloody look like one? If I was, wouldn't I be wearing a dress that was totally impractical for the woods, speak with the voice of an angel, not swear as much, and have just saved the pair of you from a rampaging orc hoard armed with nothing but a nail file and a hair clip?"  
  
Now it was Legolas's turn to smile. "She's got you there." He said, before turning suspicious and asking. "Have you ever written what I think are called 'slash fics' or 'romance fics'?"  
  
"No on both counts, apart from one spoof, but I think she's going to die. Why?"  
  
"He's deciding whether he likes you or not Jen." Aragorn informed me, before sitting down, obviously feeling more relaxed. Legolas must have been pleased with my answer as the bow was once more removed from my face and he sat as well.  
  
"You're not going to get all weepy on us are you?" Legolas asked.  
  
"Hell no! I'm just pissed off with myself for taking the wrong bloody turning and winding up here."  
  
They both seemed to be pleased with this, now they knew that I wasn't going to start acting like a warrior princess, or a helpless butterfly.  
  
"I take it you know who we are then." Aragorn asked and I nodded.  
  
"It'd be difficult for me not to."  
  
"How many times did you see the film?" Legolas broke in  
  
"Ten, but that was because it's a bloody good film, not because I fancied the pants off any of the characters. That's not to that I didn't, but I pushed the thought to the back of my mind mainly."  
  
"Who did you fancy?" was the quick question.  
  
"You, you, and Boromir. And before you ask, it was your eyes. You all have nice eyes. But I'm not going to try and snog you."  
  
"Glad to hear it." Legolas replied dryly.  
  
"So, either of you care to tell me where I am?" and this was a basic attempt to try and find my way back home. Middle-Earth was nice, but I was bloody useless. No martial arts training, no archery, or anything remotely resembling violence training. Well, apart from pyromaniac tendencies (I had often felt the urge to set my noisy housemates on aflame but had so far refrained), and pulling a knife on people. (Someone had played a practical joke on me after me asking them not to. I wasn't best pleased, so I borrowed a knife from the kitchen and threatened him with it.)  
  
Then Aragorn noticed the knife that I still held in my hand.  
  
"How did you get that? Is the place you live dangerous?"  
  
I blushed. "It's a long story."  
  
"We have time." Legolas said, settling himself comfortably.  
  
Bugger. "It was Cassies birthday yesterday. I got drunk. Very drunk. We had a party in my room. I brought a knife to cut the cake with, but Geezer hid it. I had to use a spoon. Geezer must have hidden it in my bag." I saw no need to mention the other incident involving a bottle of vodka, an electric guitar, and the delusion that I could sing.  
  
"You guys got any idea how I can get home?" and yes, at this point I was starting to get a bit weepy, but you don't fancy someone for seven years and them never finding out without becoming an amateur actress.  
  
"Lord Elrond or Gandalf would know. They've dealt with all the others that have turned up so far." Aragorn replied. "Care for us to show you the way to Rivendell?"  
  
"Well, seeing as I haven't the foggiest idea where it is, it /might/ be useful." And my sarcasm refound itself.  
  
And so I headed off in the company of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Legolas Greenleaf. This was going to be interesting to the least.  
  
"Either of you two want to know about Buddhism?"  
  
((A/n Well, this is another of those stories that once you get it into your head, you've got to get it down on paper. Shameless self-insertion, and I think its fairly like what my own reaction to being sent to Middle-Earth would be like (but my names not Jen :P) Flattery will be swooned over and flames will be used to satisfy my pyro urges :P)) 


	2. Being sat on can be quite fun

Elronds first reaction to seeing me wasn't promising. He stared at me like I was some kind of insect.  
  
"Oh Elbereth, not another one." he groaned before adding something in elvish. Now, I had no idea what it was, but to judge by Legolas's reaction, it wasn't nice. So I plunged into my knowledge of elvish and replied.  
  
"Antolle uluma sulrim." I snapped out. Aragorn turned to me, looking startled but amused.  
  
"Do you know what you said there?" he asked.  
  
"It was supposed to be 'Much wind pours from your mouth', but knowing my luck it was 'Dog food, piano, toilet-seat gerbil.'" I replied.  
  
"She has spirit." remarked Elrond.  
  
"Will you bloody well stop talking about me as if I wasn't here!" I shrieked, loosing it again.  
  
Legolas and Aragorn just smirked at the discomfort of everyone else, but I didn't notice that much. I was too busy pacing around the floor muttering things to myself, several words of which were 'flammable', and 'burn'.  
  
"Where did you find her?" Elrond asked my companions. The room was then thrown into some disarray as I attempted to tear Elronds hair out. Eventually Aragorn sat on me while Legolas explained.  
  
"We found her in the woods, looking lost and irritated. But we don't think she's one of /those/ creatures, Sues. She hasn't shown any of the signs."  
  
"You can get off me now Aragorn." I muttered, trying to squirm my way out from underneath 170lbs of Ranger.  
  
"You're not going to try and kill anyone?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Good."  
  
Elrond and Gandalf were now having a whispered conversation in one corner as Aragorn let me stand. Despite my outward appearance (homicidal fury probably), inwardly I was swooning. Aragorn had planted his butt on my chest. Now all I needed was a way for Legolas and Boromir to do the same.  
  
My pleasant fantasising was halted when Aragorn pinched me. By the peeved look on Elronds face, he had asked me a question (and was still peeved about the insult). Since I didn't want an elf-lord pissed off at me, I decided to fall back on a woman's secret weapon. No, I wasn't going to seduce him. Courtesy. I'd had fun with courtesy.  
  
"My sincerest apologies Lord Elrond, but my mind was elsewhere. What was it you desired to know?"  
  
Judging by the expression now on his face, that wasn't the answer he had expected. It looked as though someone had hit him on the head with Gandalf's staff (which was an interesting thought).  
  
"That wasn't what I expected." he said.  
  
"What answer did you expect?" I asked curiously.  
  
"Well, judging by your previous replies, it was something like 'Fuck off Half-Elven.'"  
  
"What was the question."  
  
"Are you a virgin?"  
  
"Fuck off Half-Elven!" I flushed beet red.  
  
"That's better."  
  
"There's no way I'm telling you that!"  
  
"Do you want to get back to your world?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then we need to know."  
  
"Fuck that!"  
  
"Look, if you don't want to say it out loud, just whisper it." Elrond suggested.  
  
"By her reaction she is." one of the random elves muttered.  
  
"You little bastard!" I hissed, grabbing the nearest object to hand (which happened to be Gandalf's staff) and advancing menacingly.  
  
Next thing I knew I was flat on my back with both Legolas and Aragorn sitting on me.  
  
"I'll kill the little bugger!" I hissed, squirming around.  
  
"You've already broken his nose, let it go." said Aragorn, twisting round to look at me.  
  
"I'll kill him!"  
  
"He didn't mean it!"  
  
"The little sod bloody well did!"  
  
Aragorn stared at me for a moment, before he slapped me. Hard. "Finished now?" he asked.  
  
It did the trick. I didn't have the urge to kill the elf anymore, but I would do something nasty. "Finished." I replied.  
  
"Good." and they both rose off me.  
  
"Just Boromir now." I mentally noted, before remembering the question and reluctantly whispering the answer to Gandalf who nodded.  
  
"That sorts out which group you're in. And now, if you'll excuse us we'll find out how to get you home."  
  
"While you two discuss, would you mind if I explored Rivendell. I promise not to try and kill any elves." Maybe just incapacitate them.  
  
Elrond nodded agreement, before he spoke in Elvish. I caught a couple of words I recognised, and guessed the rest. By the way Aragorn and Legolas's faces had taken on the look of poker players who were scared that their opponent was going to rip their throats out if they got another flush, they had been asked to escort me.  
  
"And I guess you two have been asked to escort me. I promise, no more elvishidal moments." Besides, it was starting to sink in that this perhaps wasn't the best way to endear myself to those who were in charge of sending me home. Anyway elves, since they lived for so long, were probably more practised at revenge and sneaky plots than I was.  
  
And so my tour of Rivendell began. It seemed to consist of waterfalls, sun, elves, rooms with not many walls, and elves. It looked quite Japanese, apart from the elves. Aragorn noticed me staring at every elf that went past.  
  
"Elf." I said intelligently.  
  
He nodded reassuringly at me, before mouthing something at Legolas over my shoulder. Though I wasn't good at lip-reading, I think it was "Two hobbits short of the Shire."  
  
And then from an upper window, came a long groan., followed by, "Oh shit." Seems like my swearing was rubbing off. "The fellowship isn't going to like this." The voice was Gandalf's and Elrond could be heard mumbling in the background. I think I could hazard a guess as to what they were speculating about.  
  
Time had moved on, as time does. Our small party had rounded up everyone else in the Fellowship, ready to hear Gandalf's announcement.  
  
Surprisingly, I just sat in a corner being quiet. The hobbits were /so/ mush cuter in life than they had been in the books or the film. So was Legolas, Aragorn and Boromir, but that was beside the point.  
  
And Gimli. I studied one of the most ignored characters carefully. He looked nice. Irritated at so many elves, but nice.  
  
"Oh God, not..." Boromir began, but I interrupted but clapping my hand over his mouth.  
  
"That's going to get irritating." I noted, before snatching my hand back with a yelp. "The sod bit me!" I examined the teeth dents in my hand. "Someone muzzle the bugger."  
  
"Jen, shut up." was the firm command from Elrond. He sounded so much like my English lecturer that I found my legs giving way, sitting cross-legged on the floor, with my hand over my closed mouth. Scary Elrond.  
  
"Gandalf and I have consulted on the way that you will be returned to your own world. But there is a problem."  
  
"But I can still return home?" I asked. Though it was nice, I wasn't cut out for life in Middle Earth.  
  
"Yes. You just have to travel with the fellowship."  
  
"What!" was the shout that was raised from eight throats.  
  
"Its difficult to explain. But she has to travel with you. At some point she will be returned to her own world. 


	3. Time to go, or at least try to

Well, that was a turn up for the books. Of all the things that I was expecting Gandalf to say, that ranked with "I'm a transvestite fish who plays air guitar and supports Leeds." as one of the most improbable.  
  
Silence filled the room. Mostly, appalled looks were on every face, but Aragorn had a faint smile on his.  
  
"Fish." I commented, more to break the silence that out of any burning desire to talk about the piscine population.  
  
Bafflement not replaced the appalled looks.  
  
"It's just something my bother says to break the silence." I explained, before sighing. "It's obvious that most of you ain't happy about this, and to be brutally frank, neither am I." Probably because I know what you poor buggers are going to go through, I added to myself. "But if this pair say that this is the only way I can get home, then it is. We'll just have to put up with each other."  
  
I was feeling slightly more philosophical about the situation. Yes, it was an unpleasant journey, but there were all these men (and hobbits and elves) who knew which end of a sword did the most damage. I knew this as well, but they could actually use their weapons.  
  
"I suppose we will." was the general consensus.  
  
"So be it. You ten shall now bemumph."  
  
At least Elrond had the courtesy not to bite my hand, but the expression in his eyes suggested I'd better have a damm good reason why I had clamped my hand over this mouth in mid declamation.  
  
"Nuh-huh. I'm just a hanger-on. These /nine/ are the Fellowship of the Ring. Nine walkers for the Nine Riders, remember?"  
  
"And there aren't ten." Elrond said once I removed my hand.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Good point."  
  
Now we had that point sorted out, it was time to leave. Or at least try to leave.  
  
Aragorn had to say farewell to Arwen, then once that had been done Legolas had to be coaxed out of the tree he was saying farewell too. And then Gimli went missing. Gandalf eventually rescued him from a tricky situation involving a few elves and certain insults in dwarvish.  
  
This was a whole new side to the fellowship I was seeing here, and it was quite interesting. I sat, mostly forgotten and watched the exquisite dance going on.  
  
As one problem was solved another came up. And as enjoyable as watching Gandalf trying to round everyone up was, I did want to get home sometime this age.  
  
Gandalf was glaring at the hobbits who were in the middle of elevenses and refusing to move until they had finished when I found him.  
  
"Need a hand?" I offered.  
  
"Please!" was his heartfelt plea.  
  
"No problem. Do you know where I could get a piece of rope about 15 foot long?" I asked.  
  
Once provided with the length of rope I had asked for, I went in search of the fellowship.  
  
First to be found was Gimli, who was looking threateningly towards a group of elves who were sticking their tongues out at him.  
  
A few minutes and a brief scuffle later, I was moving onward again with a bruised eye and towing a sullen Gimli behind me, his wrist tied by rope.  
  
Next on my list was Boromir.  
  
By the time I had rejoined Gandalf who was waiting impatiently with the pony, I had tied up all of the fellowship and received several other bruises. Mind you, they had some as well. I don't think what Aragorn threatened to do to me was possible to do to a human, at least not without an extra arm and a hammer. Legolas was sniping at Gimli since he was the first to be captured, the hobbits were moaning about their elevenses, and Boromir and Aragorn were just looking sullen.  
  
We caused quite a commotion on our travels through Rivendell, especially with the pillar (and elf) grabbing and cries of "Just one more kiss." But I can be very determined sometimes, and this was one of these. Besides, apart from the bruises, I was having fun. It wasn't every day that I got to tie up the fellowship. But at least Gandalf was pleased to see me.  
  
And so our journey began. At the moment, only Gandalf and Bill the pony were talking to me. Things could only get better. Well, at least I hoped so.  
  
((A/N Here's the next chapter! I hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :P)) 


	4. Anyone got an umbrella, or at least some...

We walked. And walked. And walked, and walked, and walked, and, well, you get the picture. And I was shattered. Gandalf paced away ahead, seemingly oblivious to my curses as I foundered along. Aragorn/Strider/Wingfoot strode away ahead. He was a masochist. I could have sworn he was grinning as I blistered the air. Boromir was just ignoring me still. Gimli and Legolas were a right pair. Neither of them was willing to show weakness in front of the other and so both plodded on stoically.  
  
At least the hobbits were in sort of the same boat as me. Sam had suggested that I ride Bill, but I told him politely no. I thought it wouldn't be polite to shriek that I would rather have blisters on my feet than my bum.  
  
At least it was warm. But I was dreading what was to come. I could only hope that I got taken home before we got to Caradhras, or Moria. Or worse, Amon Hen. I wouldn't mind visiting Lorien, but Galadriel would be scary.  
  
Finally, we stopped for a rest. I had no idea of how far we had travelled, and had sort of lost track of the days. I had made an attempt to keep a diary, but I had made two entries:  
  
Sun peeping over horizon – Woken by Aragorn prodding me.  
  
Sun an inch above horizon – Started walking.  
  
Sun down – Stopped walking. Slept  
  
  
  
Sun peeping over horizon – Woken by Legolas prodding me  
  
Sun an inch over horizon – Started walking.  
  
Sun down – Stopped walking. Slept.  
  
And since they were almost the same, I decided to give up. But the place we stopped was familiar to me from somewhere, and as we settled, it nagged at my mind. But I was too tired to care. I shrugged off my pack and dropped down onto the ground and just flopped. I was about to close my eyes to catch up on some rest before we started walking again, when I was prodded awake, this time by Boromir.  
  
"Sword. Lesson. Now." Was his short comment.  
  
Then it hit me. I knew exactly where we were. Though the place did not have a name, well one that I could bring to mind immediately, we were due to have a short sharp squall of birds shortly. After Merry and Pippin had knocked Boromir over, which I was looking forward to.  
  
I had been given Frodo's old sword, well, long dagger type thing, since he now had Sting. And now Boromir was going to show me how to use it. Oh god.  
  
"This is going to hurt." I muttered as I got to my feet and slowly made my way over to where my tutor awaited me, with what looked to be unholy relish in his eyes. Oh god.  
  
As I waited, this was one time I wished for the qualities of a Mary Sue. Plus if I didn't leave before Moria, I would bloody well need it. Ii didn't fancy facing orcs with nothing but a pen and some RE books,  
  
"Two, one five." Boromir chanted as he swung his sword at Pippin, who parried.  
  
"Move your feet." Aragorn advised.  
  
The two hobbits complimented each other on their performances. Then as I heard Gimli's voice in the background, Boromir turned to me.  
  
I brought my blade up and the shock that coursed through my arm as the two sharp bits of metal collided nearly made me nearly drop my aforementioned sharp bit of metal.  
  
But Mr-oh-look-I've-got-a-big-horn didn't give me time to get rid of the tingling sensation, and swung again.  
  
This time, I found my sword moving of its own accord to block the other.  
  
"Shit, Sue!" I mentally shrieked, as my hand twisted in preparation to attack. I did the only logical thing. I hit it with my free (and under my control) hand.  
  
My possessed hand spasmed before I regained control of it. Boromir was looking at me curiously, no doubt wondering what the hell I was doing. I exchanged glances with Merry and Pippin, and they nodded. Plot.  
  
"For the Shire!" was the battle cry as the three of us tackled Boromir, tickling furiously (well, at least I was).  
  
"Nothing, its just a wisp of cloud." Came the scornful voice of Gimli, as I achieved my third dream and had a Boromir butt on my chest. But alas all too quickly it was removed as Boromir rose to obey the dictates of plot.  
  
"It's moving fast, and against the wind."  
  
Doing my utmost to look casual, I wandered over to where my baggage was laid out, ready to grab it and run like bugggery for the nearest bush to hide under.  
  
"Crebain, from Dunland." Legolas yelled, still managing to sound sexy, even when bird watching.  
  
"Hide!" called Aragorn. I need no further urgings and sprinted and dived under cover.  
  
The crows swept down on the hill as the fellowship bit the dirt. I watched from beneath my clump of gorse and just stared. Reality was a lot different from reading it or watching it.  
  
As the crowds swept off back to Dunland, or rather to report to Saruman, we all emerged, Gimli and Legolas both trying to come up with reasons why they had hidden. They settled for blaming Aragorn's 'Hide' command.  
  
"Spies of Saruman. The passes south are being watched." Gandalf declared. "We must take the pass of Caradhras!"  
  
Snow. Cold. Snow. Avalanche. Not fun. These were roughly the thoughts that flashed through my mind.  
  
"Hope you all packed your thermal underwear." I muttered, 


	5. Up the mountain, buried in snow, down th...

((A/N As before, none of the characters apart from Jen belong to me. Enjoy!))  
  
It was cold. Through the sun was shining in a blue sky, I was still freezing. Luckily, Boromir had brought a spare cloak with him and I was currently huddled up in that, trying to conserve body heat.  
  
But I felt like a polar bear as I walked alongside the fellowship, who were still talking to me. Well, apart from Pippin, but that was because I had insulted mushrooms.  
  
I was contemplating what I knew would be happening in the future, and praying to all the Valar I could name, Manwe, Varda, Ulmo, Yavanna, Aule, Nienna, Este, Vaire, Vana, Nessa, Tulkas, Irmo, Namo and Orome, that I could be taken back home before we got to Moria. It had been traumatic enough reading about Gandalf dying in the book and seeing it on screen without seeing it in reality.  
  
Plus there was the large matter of the Balrog.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" Sam asked, before I fell flat on my face in the snow.  
  
Laughter greeted me as I raised my head, spat out a mouthful of snow and glared at the rock that had tripped me. Then I glared at the fellowship for good measure. If anything, my annoyance only served to make them laugh more.  
  
So I did the only thing a decent girl could. I formed a snowball, and lobbed it at Legolas's head.  
  
It impacted on his shoulder, and he just eyed my curiously, until one hit Gandalf, which made him laugh.  
  
Soon a full blown snowball fight was in progress, with me, Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry ganging up on Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Boromir and Gandalf.  
  
At first the men had seemed slightly aloof from the battle, but that changed once I poured a handful of snow down Boromir's back.  
  
Finally, fun over, we continued to trek.  
  
My mind wandered to be truthful. I concentrated on walking rather than what the fellowship were saying.  
  
But Aragorn's harsh saying of Boromir's name drew my attention.  
  
Boromir was standing with his back to me, holding, by its silver chain, the one Ring.  
  
My mind ran over the words he would say, but then I remembered the tension that would follow. So as the scene played out, I prepared.  
  
Once Boromir had handed the Ring back, he laughed, ruffled Frodo's hair and began to turn away.  
  
As he turned, my loosely formed snowball hit him on the cheek.  
  
"Thrrrrrrrrrrrrrrppppppppp." I blew the loudest raspberry I could, sticking out my tongue at him, before running like buggery.  
  
Boromir chased, while the rest fell about laughing. As I passed Gandalf at high speeds, I could have sworn he whispered.  
  
"That was well done."  
  
I had lost track of the duration that the storm had raged. We were all caked in snow, shivering with the cold as we ploughed through the snow.  
  
Legolas, bless his little cotton socks, er woollen tights, was the only one that wasn't struggling. He stepped ahead of us, before halting, looking fairly like a pointer dog.  
  
"There is a fell voice on the air!" he called.  
  
"Its Saruman!" Gandalf called.  
  
There was a tremendous crack from above and large boulders of snow came tumbling down, missing us narrowly.  
  
"He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!" Aragorn yelled.  
  
Gandalf shook his head wordlessly, before he began his own counter incantation.  
  
In my minds eye I saw Saruman, on top of 'Mount Fang', or Orthanc as it was more commonly known, casting his own spells.  
  
Dark clouds raced over the mountains, ferocious in their intensity.  
  
I braced myself as a crash and a flash of lightning sundered the air.  
  
It impacted at the top, and sent tons of snow cascading downwards.  
  
In an instant, my world went black and cold. My world was now nothing but snow and my limbs were leaden.  
  
I was paralysed, unable to move with the fear that gripped me. Blackness began to dance across my vision.  
  
Then survival instincts I didn't know I had kicked in and I began to thrash wildly. The snow only shifted fractionally as I tried to make my way to the surface.  
  
But then a hand grasped my shoulder, its fingers contracting like iron bands. I did not struggle as the hand pulled me upwards towards light.  
  
My head broke the surface and I looked straight into the eyes of Legolas. The rest of the fellowship had been dug out, covered in snow. The hobbits looked to be as miserable as I felt/  
  
"We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan! Or take the West road to my city!" Boromir shouted over the call of the wind.  
  
"The Gap of Rohan takes us to close to Isenguard." Aragorn shook his head.  
  
"If we cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the Mines of Moria." Gimli argued.  
  
"Let the RingBearer decide." Gandalf said heavily.  
  
I knew why he was so worried. The words of Saruman were bouncing around inside my head.  
  
"You know what they awoke in the darkness of Khazad-Dum. Shadow and flame."  
  
I knew what was to happen, bit I was praying furiously that Frodo would not say…  
  
"We will go through the Mines."  
  
But he did.  
  
And so we left the snowy slops of Caradhras behind, for the darkness of Moria. 


	6. Time to face the darkness Anyone got a t...

((Next chapter :) Fraid that its going to get a bit serious from here on in, since the Mines of Moria is a fairly serious bit. So there may be angst. Enjoy!))  
  
The Mines of Moria. In person, they were a lot more impressive than on the screen. Much more impressive. I could only stand and gape at them, looking like a goldfish. At least Gimli managed to articulate.  
  
Night was falling as we made camp beside the door, and Gandalf cleared away the dust of ages from the ithildin and let the moonlight shine on it. The gate glowed, and Gandalf began to translate the runes. Part of me giggled furiously, wondering why they didn't ask Legolas to translate, seeing as it would have saved them a lot of time. The rest of me was swearing furiously as I remembered what was coming up.  
  
As Gandalf did his best to open the door, I stayed in the background as much as possible, allowing the plot to direct their actions. Anyway, I wouldn't have been able to say anything useful, I was too busy shitting myself as to what was going to come.  
  
There was always the option of leaving the fellowship before they entered the mines, by what chance would I have of surviving in world I knew little about. I had only read the books and seen the film for heavens sake! I couldn't tell a poisonous mushroom from one that was edible, and I don't think that I would be able to hunt down, kill and gut something. So that left me with the option of staying with the fellowship. And facing orcs and a peeved Balrog. Oh, and the watcher in the water. Fuck. What a decision.  
  
"You look serious." commented Aragorn as he finished with his part in the plot and came to sit next to me.  
  
"Just considering things really." I replied, trying to keep my face from showing the absolute terror that was trying to paralyse me. "Are you one of the ones who know what is going to happen next?" he asked. That startled me.  
  
"Yes." I admitted. "And I'm trying to figure out my role in all of this." "We will protect you should we encounter trouble." Aragorn said, resting one hand on my shoulder in reassurance.  
  
"That's one of the things that I'm afraid of." I told him, finding that his reassurances were helping me clarify my thoughts. "If you spend your time trying to defend me, me who is rather inept with a blade, you might not take the time to defend yourself. I don't want to be responsible for getting you killed." "And the fact that you're inept with a blade could mean your death if you aren't defended."  
  
"Exactly. And that's what I'm so thoughtful about." I replied.  
  
Aragorn nodded, his brow furrowing in concentration. I hadn't wanted to offload my problems onto anyone else, but now that I had, I did feel a lot better for it. Sharing the problem meant that two brains could try and work out a solution. But to be honest, I didn't think that there was a solution. If I wanted to return home, I would have to travel with the fellowship.  
  
"I'll just have to do my best." I said, thinking aloud, and Aragorn looked over at me.  
  
The Heirs of Isildur, if I remembered rightly from my reading, were extremely perceptive, and this was borne out by the nod that he gave me.  
  
Now that I had made my decision, I felt a peculiar calmness come over me. I had felt this a couple of times before when I had made a decision. I had no idea where it came from, but it reassured me.  
  
"Its no use." Gandalf said, and the line snapped me back to full awareness. That was my cue to start paying attention.  
  
Frodo rose and stared at the door. My lips formed the same words as he spoke, and the final password.  
  
"Mellon."  
  
The doors rumbled open, sending a waft of dank air out as they did so. The interior was totally dark, and Gandalf placed a crystal at the top of his staff and murmured an incantation. The crystal began to glow.  
  
The fellowship and I advanced into the Mines. At first I tried to watch where I was putting my feet to try and avoid stepping on the bones that I knew littered the floor, but it proved to be too difficult. I closed my ears to the cracking of the bones beneath my feet.  
  
Gimli was talking to Legolas about the hospitality of the dwarves, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow that Balin was dead.  
  
"This is no mine." Boromir declared, looking around. "It's a tomb."  
  
The hobbits bunched closer together and started to back away at the sight of the skeletons. My hand was on my sword, and every muscle in my body was tensed. I /knew/ what was coming.  
  
"We head for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here." Boromir said, before shouting, "Get out! Get out!'  
  
Then my eyes picked out the tentacle that was creeping over the stones. Frodo yelled as it caught him by the ankle and dragged him towards the lake. Then my reactions kicked in. though I was an interloper, I was still part of the fellowship. I yanked my sword out of its scabbard and dashed to the lakeshore.  
  
We lashed at the tentacle furiously until it released Frodo and withdrew, but before we could gather our thoughts, a myriad of other tentacles shot out of the water, sending us flying as they impacted.  
  
One slammed into my chest, and the power in it literally knocked the wind out of me as I was flung back against the rock wall. Blackness descended briefly over my eyes and my head spun, but when my vision cleared, I saw Aragorn and Boromir to the rescue.  
  
As Boromir severed the tentacle that had hoisted Frodo into the air and Frodo dropped into his arms, Aragorn called to Legolas to shoot an arrow into the creature's eye.  
  
We all ran for what now seemed like a sanctuary, the entrance to the Mines. The Watcher seemed to gather itself, before lashing forward and collapsing the entrance. Darkness descended on us and rock dust billowed around us and clogged our hair.  
  
Any thoughts that I had of leaving were now no more than dreams. There was no way out, except.  
  
"We must face the long dark of Moria. It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence here may go unnoticed." Gandalf intoned.  
  
And so our journey through the dark began. I stayed in the middle of the group near the hobbits, and kept looking around, taking in the enormity of the mines. Things in real life were much more impressive than things read about or seen on the big screen. 


	7. Stunning views, and irriated orcs

Everything was dark. The only light came from the staff of Gandalf, which he held up to light our way. And the bones, skeletons of orcs and dwarves everywhere.  
  
Suffice to say that I wasn't coping with this very well. Being a college student prepared you for some horrors, but nothing like this. But the rest of the fellowship seemed to understand what I was going through and were supportive. Frodo in particular understood what I was going through, since he went through the same thing.  
  
But despite the fright, the scale of the mines awed me. Gimli was giving me a history of the dwarves as we walked, and this was filling in my rather sketchy knowledge (dwarves only really featured in the appendix, and I had only read that once or twice.)  
  
'I have no recollection of this place." murmured Gandalf as we came to a junction of three passages.  
  
Since Gandalfs leadership had been fairly good so far, everyone seemed to suffer a severe erosion of confidence as we set up camp. Mind you, I didn't since I knew what was happening.  
  
And so, my eyes were looking in the same direction as Frodo's when he spotted Gollum. And so I saw the one of the other participants in this drama. He didn't look as bad as I though he would, and the fact that I knew the ultimate part he would play in this quest tempered my attitude to him.  
  
Boromir took the opportunity of the rest to give me another sword lesson, most likely prompted by Aragorn. At least this time I vaguely managed to hold my own.  
  
"Ah, its that way." Gandalf declared, rising to his feet and pointing down the middle of the three passages.  
  
"He's remembered!" Merry declared.  
  
"No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down here. When in doubt Meriadoc, always follow your nose." And Gandalf led the way down the passage.  
  
My mind ran through what would happen next, and I started to shake involuntarily. Balins Tomb, and the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. The time that I had feared would soon be happening.  
  
But all these thoughts were driven out of my mind as she stepped out onto a landing.  
  
"I think we may risk a little more light." Gandalf said, his voice echoing, and he raised his staff, which began to glow brighter and brighter, dispelling the gloom.  
  
"Bloody hell." I breathed out as my eyes saw the hall.  
  
"Behold, the great realm of the dwarven city of Dwarrowdelf!" Gandalf said.  
  
It was bloody impressive. Pillars towering upward, stunning in their immensity, stretching off into the distance.  
  
"Well that's an eye opener and no mistake." Sam breathed, and Gimli's face was reverential (well, it actually looked liked he had been hit on the head with Gandalf's staff.)  
  
"Definitely." I agreed with Sam. "Its amazing."  
  
We descended into the hall and stood among the pillars. I felt dwarfed by them, no pun intended.  
  
As we walked, I kept gaping, stunned by the sight. Nothing on Earth could compare to this. The rest of the fellowship seemed to be in the same state as me.  
  
But then off to one side Gimli spotted a room, with a ray of light from some high crystal window shining down onto a white tomb. He took off at a run with a cry, with the rest of us following, but his pace gradually slowed as he approached the tomb.  
  
We all gathered around, as Gandalf read out the Westron meaning of the runes.  
  
"Here lies Balin, son of Hundi, Lord of Moria. So he is dead then. Its as I feared."  
  
Gimli let out a keening moan. If its one thing that I know I'm good at, it's comforting, so I knelt beside him, and wrapped one arm round his shoulders, rubbing gently.  
  
Gandalf handed his staff and hat to Pippin, before picking up a blood stained and battle torn tome from the clutches of a cobwebbed skeleton. I had to close my eyes not to yell out to Pippin to stay away from the well, to warn Gandalf that the 'fool of a Took' was about to do something that he, and we, would regret.  
  
But to do that would alter the future dramatically. I may have been only a college student, but talking with my brother had given me an idea of continuity, and as Gandalf read the last words of the Dwarves, I plotted out what the ramifications of changes would be. And then, it came. With a crash, the skeleton slid down the well, bouncing from the stone sides, followed by a wooden bucket. The crash faded into the distance, a faint echo drifting up to those of us who remained spellbound in Balins Tomb.  
  
"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf declared, snatching back his hat and staff. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity."  
  
I shivered, feeling nausea rising inside me. Aragorn shot me a worried glance, but before he could speak, a boom echoed from the well. It was shortly followed by another, and they grew in volume, pace and intensity. A high-pitched screeching accompanied the drums. As it echoed around the tomb, the fellowship looked round. It was Legolas who spoke first.  
  
"Orcs."  
  
Boromir didn't wait, before dashed for the doors, closely followed by Aragorn and Legolas.  
  
The hobbits and Gandalf drew their swords, and Gimli took up his position on top of the tomb.  
  
Boromir, Legolas and Aragorn joined us again, sword drawn in the case of the former, arrows nocked to bows in the case of the latter.  
  
We waited as the doors began to bend inwards. I prayed furiously from my position beside the hobbits. But now the time that I had feared was upon me, my fear was ebbing away, to be replaced by composure. There was nothing that I could do now to change things, as had been the temptation before. Now things were set, and I could but go with the flow. The first two arrows were loosed while the door was still shut, and I could still find time for a smile of pride in my companion's skill.  
  
And then the doors burst open and the chamber was filled with orcs.  
  
The training that I had been given took over, and my blade lashed at the orcish bodies around me as I did my best to defend myself.  
  
Then the cave troll entered. I racked my mind to remember the positions it took up in the tomb, so that I could avoid it. I did not want to tangle with it, for I knew that I would be about as much use as a chocolate teapot.  
  
The battle raged, with the cave troll causing havoc to both sides, both ours and his own. I did manage to find on small moment to lust after Legolas as he avoided the flailing of the trolls chain, but my attention was diverted by yet another orc.  
  
Frodo, Merry and Pippin were split from their small group by the club of the cave troll, which then focused its attentions on Frodo.  
  
I sliced at another orc, managing to wound its sword arm, and missed Frodo being cornered by the troll.  
  
Then the cry from Aragorn drew my attention as he grabbed a pike and menaced the approaching cave troll.  
  
This next bit I could not stand to see, even though I knew the outcome. So I averted my eyes, and concentrated on my own battle. I was unsure if I had actually killed any orcs with my inexperienced strokes, but at least I could have incapacitated them slightly. The cry from Merry and Pippin wrenched my heart, and gave new strength to my sword arm, which was aching with weariness and the unaccustomed exercise.  
  
And then the cave troll fell. The gargantuan beast was finally dead. But it did not seem without cost. Frodo lay; pierced with the pike that Aragorn had tried to defend him with. But I was alive! I had survived the battle with only a few cuts and bruises, no serious or incapacitating wounds. How the hell I had managed that, knowing as little as I knew was amazing, but I was grateful to whatever force had protected me.  
  
Frodo was raised up from the ground, and proved to be alive, thanks to his mithril mail shirt.  
  
Then the drums started again, and Gandalf looked towards the exit.  
  
"To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!"  
  
And so we ran. And as we ran, the theme rang through my head, spurring my onwards.  
  
((Next chapter! Hope you enjoy, and I hope that Jen is actually quite believable. *hugs* KazraGirl)) 


	8. Cry me a river

I don't think that I have ever run so fast in my life as I did then. The noise of the orcs behind us leant wings to our feet as we thundered through the halls. I didn't look behind me, because I knew what I would see. Hundreds of orcs pouring out over every crevice, spilling down from the ceiling and scampering down the pillars like overgrown spiders.  
  
They surrounded us, hooting, jeering and brandishing their weapons. We prepared ourselves for a last stand, Gimli and Gandalf looking as though they would take on the whole hoard by themselves.  
  
Then there came a rumbling growl, and the orcs screeched in fear. Another growl, this one longer, deeper, and almost holding a note of command. From the far end of the hall there came a flickering red glow.  
  
The orcs screeched once more, before they fled in a disorganised mass. Gimli laughed as if he had scared them off all by himself.  
  
But I knew different. I knew what this 'new devilry' was. And though I had read the books, and the books before it, I still had no clue how to defeat it. I was no Glorfindel, just Jen. And even if I had known how to defeat it, I couldn't, because it was in this way, that the future would come to pass.  
  
"A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" Gandalf said, his voice rising to a shout.  
  
Spurred on by his words, we fled faster.  
  
We passed through an archway, and Boromir stumbled on the edge of a sheer drop. Legolas pulled him to safety. Another roar came from behind us, and Aragorn moved to defend the rear, but Gandalf stopped him.  
  
"Lead them on Aragorn! The bridge is near!" he commanded him. Aragorn looked mutinous, and Gandalf gave him a hard shove. "Do as I say! Swords are no more use here."  
  
It was here that I finally saw Gandalf in a different light, as an Istari, a servant of powers that I could only imagine.  
  
Aragorn led us onward, scrambling down flight after flight of stairs, trying to keep our balance, and our speed.  
  
We came to a gap in the stairs, which Legolas easily hurdled, and turned to face us. Gandalf was the next to cross, steadied by Legolas. It was then that the arrows started. From high up, orcs look aim, and loosed their arrows down at us. Aragorn and Legolas did their best to respond, but their main aim was to get us all out of Moria as soon as possible.  
  
Legolas beckoned to me, and I took a deep breath.  
  
"Just like doing the long jump." I muttered to myself, taking a step back, before hurling myself forward. The feeling that ran through me as my feet passed over the gaping hole, I do not want to repeat. Boromir came next, with Merry and Pippin tucked under his arms. Aragorn then tossed Sam across. Then it was Gimli's turn. Aragorn was going to toss him across as well, but Gimli forestalled him. I had to turn avert my eyes, so I didn't see Gimli's face when he said that line.  
  
"Nobody tosses a dwarf."  
  
I had to turn away, so as not to giggle when Legolas grabbed Gimli's beard. It probably wasn't all that humorous, but in this situation, it would have had me in stitches should I have watched it.  
  
I couldn't watch what happened with Aragorn and Frodo, and settled for keeping my back turned, and just listening.  
  
The thud as the falling stone stair section hit the one we were standing on vibrated through my entire body, and made me stagger. But we were all safe and well. For the moment.  
  
We ran onwards. Behind us roared a wall of flame, the heat almost unbearable. Gandalf lagged behind, and I knew what was in his mind.  
  
One by one, we crossed the slender bridge. I tried not to look down, and just kept running, banging into Boromir.  
  
We all turned, and stared at the scene that was unfolding on the bridge. Gandalf had not followed us, but instead remained on the bridge. The flames roared up in front of him, but he did not flinch back.  
  
Then suddenly, with a deafening roar, the flames reared up, higher and higher, towering above the almost fragile figure of Gandalf. There stood the Balrog, in all its fearsome splendour.  
  
"You shall not pass!" Gandalf declared firmly.  
  
The Balrog roared, and straightened, shadows sweeping out behind it like wings, as flames kindled all over its body.  
  
"I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun! Go back to the shadow!"  
  
The Balrog drew a sword out of nowhere, made of the flame of its own body, and slashed it down toward Gandalf. It impacted on Gandalf's own sword, and shattered into fiery pieces. The Balrog snarled, and created a whip, which whined and cracked through the air.  
  
Gandalf raised his staff and sword together, slamming them down on the bridge in a flash of white light, crying "You shall not pass!"  
  
The Balrog withdrew slightly, its nostrils dilating as it considered. But then it stepped forward, confronting Gandalf. But the bridge collapsed under it, and it tumbled downwards amongst the stone. Gandalf sighed, and leaned against his staff, looking weary. As he turned to head back to where we stood, awestruck by what we had just witnessed, the whip of the Balrog came flickering through the air.  
  
It snaked around Gandalfs ankle, and as the Balrog fell, it dragged Gandalf with it. His staff and sword already falling, Gandalf managed to cling onto the rough edges of the stone.  
  
"Gandalf!" Frodo shrieked, trying to run down to where Gandalf clung, but Boromir restrained him. We stared in horror.  
  
"Fly you fools!" Gandalf gasped, before his fingers grip loosened, and he plummeted down after the Balrog.  
  
Frodo screamed, a heart wrenching cry. Tears flowed down our faces, as we turned and ran, up and out, into the sunlight.  
  
Our tears could have filled a river as we staggered out into the blinding sunlight. We mourned Gandalf.  
  
I cried to, for although I knew the truth of what happened, and what would happen, the moment was no less heart wrenching.  
  
((OOC - Phew! I only hope that I've managed to do justice in my writing to the scene in the film. That was one of the hardest chapters I've had to write so far for this. And in case anyone was wondering, after they reach Parth Galen, yes, Jen is going to continue on into "The Two Towers.". Thank you for reading this!)) 


	9. The Golden Wood

My feet hurt. So much running. But at least I hadn't got any more blisters. And the pain in my feet distracted me from what had happened in Moria.  
  
Snap out of it Jen, I told myself firmly Start thinking about Lothlorien. If Celeborn says 'Nine there are but ten there were set out from Rivendell.' I might just curl up and die.  
  
I was lagging behind the others since I wasn't as fit as them, due to the fact that I was a lazy student, though I had improved from what I had been. Generally they had tolerated that. Aragorn had even given me some tips on how to build up my stamina.  
  
As we approached the edge of the Golden Wood, I could see a definite change come over the fellowship. Legolas became almost worshipful, and Aragorn was nearly as bad. Boromir was watchful, the hobbits looked worried, and awe- struck, which combined to form a peculiar expression on their faces, and Gimli was wary, and scared. I could understand all their emotions, and added my wonder and sheer brown trousers terror to the mix.  
  
"Stay close young hobbits." Gimli hissed, beckoning to Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin to keep up. This speech of Gimli's had always annoyed me for some obscure reason, so I tuned out slightly and increased my pace to talk to Legolas.  
  
From the look on his face he was about to start hugging trees, but luckily, salvation came in the form of Haldir and a host of very peeved elves and their pointy bits of wood.  
  
I did what any sensible student would do, and hid behind Aragorn. He burbled away to Haldir in elvish while I lurked behind him, trying not to breathe too loudly.  
  
Something must have been decided for we started to move onwards again. I stayed lurking behind, variously, Boromir, Legolas and Aragorn (hiding behind dwarves and hobbits just looked stupid.). But Lothlorien stunned me. Rivendell had been beautiful and awe-inspiring, but Lothlorien was beyond that. It was magical, a place from a forgotten realm and time. Galadriel of the Noldor and Celeborn of Doriath were the rulers of Caras Galadhon, and I was bloody terrified of meeting them.  
  
As we waited on the flet for the Lord and Lady, I ran my mind over the scene, and promptly hid behind Legolas, since he was the one who didn't say much at this point.  
  
"Eight there were but nine there are set out from Rivendell." Celeborn's resonant voice rang out and I sighed in relief. At least my hiding had been good for something. But then I felt my blood run cold as Galadriel looked towards Legolas, and past him, to me.  
  
Lady, I do not wish to offend you by concealing my presence here but I am a stranger to this world, and fear I alter things merely by being here. I tried to hold these thoughts in the forefront of my mind.  
  
A soft chuckle echoed in my mind. You and I shall talk later. Galadriel told me while speaking to the Fellowship. I didn't know whether to be happy or sad at that fact.  
  
The plaintive sounds of Elven singing echoed mournfully through the woods. We were all gathered around the moss carpeted roots of a huge mallorn tree, talking in soft voices. Boromir was away from the rest of us, staring at the fairytale lights of the city, and I knew why. As Aragorn walked over to Boromir, I mouthed along with the words they said, and felt their emotions.  
  
A hand fell on my shoulder and I turned my head to look full into the face of an elf.  
  
"The Lady Galadriel wishes to speak with you." He said, before offering a long fingered hand to help me rise. I accepted, feeling the coolness of his fingers on mine. It was almost otherworldly as he led me to the Lady of the Galadhrim.  
  
I bowed deeply to her as my escort left us alone together. I was trying not to shake, but then she fixed her eyes on me.  
  
That was scary. I could feel her inside my mind and I tried desperately to seal off the information that I didn't want her to know.  
  
"Child" she spoke kindly, and for once I bit my tongue and didn't come back with a sardonic reply. After all, I was a child compared to her. "There is no need to fear me. We all have secrets, but I would not seek to see them unless they threatened the completion of the quest." The tone of her voice, the kindness of her words and the intensity of her eyes all contrived to do something that I had sworn I would not do, that I had held inside me.  
  
I wept. I wept for my home, my family and friends. I wept for Frodo and the burden he carried. I wept for the Fellowship for what they had endured, and were yet to endure. I wept for all of Middle-Earth, for what would happen if the quest should not be completed. And I wept for myself, caught up in things that I should not have been.  
  
I felt Galadriel's arms wrap around me, a comforting pressure that helped me return to myself. Once she felt my sobs ease, she released me, one hand remaining on my shoulder.  
  
"Thank you Lady." I told her with a wan smile, blotting my eyes on my sleeve. "Thank you for being here."  
  
She smiled understandingly at me. "Lothlorien is a place of healing, and that was festering inside you. It needed to be released."  
  
I nodded gratefully. That was it exactly. Galadriel continued. "You must travel on with the Fellowship, for I cannot help you return to your own world." I bowed my head in acknowledgement before something occurred to me, and I blurted it out without thinking.  
  
"But with who should I go when the Fellowship part company?"  
  
Galadriel shot me a sharp look, a slight frown creasing her brow. I let her see one image from the film that I remembered, but with the real people in place of the actors.  
  
Aragorn, standing in front of Legolas and Gimli, speaking of Frodo, and his fate.  
  
Galadriel sighed and understanding grew on her face.  
  
"Thank you for that child." But as she spoke it seemed as though her mind were distant.  
  
"You should travel with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, for it is with them that I deem you will have the most chance." spoke a new voice, and I looked at Celeborn as he joined his wife.  
  
"I will my Lord Celeborn, and I thank you. Long will Caras Galadhon remain in my memory, even after I have returned to my own world." I bowed again to the couple, as they moved away from me, before I headed back to join the rest of the Fellowship.  
  
I fielded their questions as best I could, answering the ones that I deemed were suitable, before I settled myself for the night. But I remained awake as Frodo rose and followed the ethereal Lady to her Mirror.  
  
I don't know how long we spent in Lothlorien, for time seemed to have no meaning in that enchanted wood. But eventually we had to depart. Gifts were given to the Fellowship and myself. I didn't expect anything, but received something, which startled me. A thin gold chain, from which hung a small mallorn leaf, encased in a clear crystal. It would remind me of my time here in Caras Galadhon, and in Middle Earth. Boats were provided for all of us, which I wasn't too keen on, since me and boats didn't really get on well. But I remained silent as we departed down the River Anduin. 


	10. The end of the fellowship

The view was superb. I was sharing a boat with Legolas and Gimli who were tolerant of my open mouthed staring. I hadn't been too ill on this voyage, since it was only on a river and not on a sea. But my pleasure in the voyage and the company I kept was slightly dimmed by the events that I knew were going to happen. My only vague consolation was that the Uruk-Hai would probably not be looking for me, so hiding up a tree until they all went away. It was either that or hinder the Fellowship as they fought for their lives.  
  
Apart from these rather gloomy thoughts, it was rather pleasant.  
  
And then came the day when we saw the Argonath. My jaw dropped open as I saw those massive stone edifices, looking not so much as carved people, but stone sentinels of some forgotten age, awaiting only the call to let them awaken once more.  
  
"Isildur and Anarion." I murmured to myself as we began to pass underneath them, their shadows darkening the water we passed over. My eyes followed their forms upward, to their stern gazes that stared outward from Gondor, one arm raised to forbid the passage of foes.  
  
And then we emerged into a wide lake, with an island in the centre. At the far end of the lake, a huge waterfall cascaded, its rumble filling the air. We were almost at Parth Galen.  
  
We beached the boats on a shingle strand, embedding them firmly. The paddles were stowed neatly away and we carried our belongings out.  
  
"If I never see a boat again it'll be too soon." I muttered, recieving a grin from Gimli.  
  
As I settled myself against a rock, one ear listening to Legolas's speech about a shadow and a threat, I was scanning around for a good hiding place. I was debating what to tell Aragorn when I realised that I could just hide here. The Uruk-Hai didn't come to check on the boats as far as I was aware, and since the Fellowship spilt to find Frodo and Boromir, my absence would go unnoticed. "You're quiet Jen." Pippin commented as he sat down beside me, eyes lingering on the fire where he was probably hoping a meal would be cooked. "Just thinking Pippin." I told him, resting one hand on his shoulder and resisting the urge to ruffle his hair.  
  
"At least you're stopped swearing so much."  
  
I grinned. "That's because I've become used to what's happening here. And am feeling better about it."  
  
He nodded. "Its the same with me and Merry I think. We came along to help Frodo, but have found ourselves, if that makes any sense at all."  
  
"It does." But I racked my brains for a way to convey what I knew was coming. "But I find it comforting to think that no matter what happens, everything will be alright in the end. If given the chance again, I don't think I'd had missed tagging along with the Fellowship."  
  
Our conversation peetered out as the food started to cook, sending tantalising aromas towards us. And to be truthful, there wasn't much else to say.  
  
I slithered slightly way from the rest, and watched a first Frodo and then Boromir disappeared from the camp.  
  
I listened to the conversation between Aragorn and Gimli, and nodded along with them. But I did pay attention to his directions, since I would be travelling with them. I only hoped that I could keep up with them.  
  
"Where's Frodo?" Sam asked, looking around concernedly. Aragorn's eyes flicked to Boromir's neatly set out place.  
  
As they split up to try and find the pair, I volunteered to wait here in case they should return, and wonder where everyone was.  
  
Once everyone had departed, I hastily climbed the nearest tree, taking one of the blankets with me.  
  
I sat there securely on one of the branches, my back pressed firmly against the truck, blanket wrapped round me, sword in hand.  
  
I started to shiver as the noises of the battle began, and I heard the crashing footsteps of the Uruk-Hai. I was reduced to a trembling wreck, and as I heard the cry of 'Elendil!' ring out, I shut my eyes, trying to block out the knowledge of what I knew was going to happen.  
  
The sound of the Horn of Gondor rang out in a powerful blast, and I know that I started to cry, picturing the scene in my mind.  
  
I heard Frodo's skittering footsteps on the shingle as he stood and looked out over the water. As he pushed the boat out and started to paddle away, I opened my eyes and saw him moving away. I watched as Sam waded into the water after the departing boat.  
  
"Good luck to you on your quest, and may the Valar watch over you." I murmured as the two began to paddle away to the other side of the river.  
  
Now all I had to do was await the return of the three that I would be travelling with.  
  
They came, looking weary and bloodstained. Their eyes were reddened with the tears that they had shed over Boromir's death, but Aragorn's expression was resolved. He knew what they must do. I slid down from my concealing tree, and waited for them.  
  
"Are you alright Jen?" Gimli asked, his face concerned for me. I nodded in response. I saw his mouth open, forming the first syllables of Boromir, but moved in to forestall him.  
  
"I know." I said gently. "In my world, your story is common, and I knew what was going to happen. That's why I hid here. I couldn't bear to see what was going to happen. And my skills with the sword are not the best, and I didn't dare risk that one of you would be killed defending me."  
  
Tears welled in my eyes as I tried to explain why I had hidden in the tree, but the understanding in their eyes cut my sentences off.  
  
"I guessed something like that caused your quietness.' Aragorn said, moving to rest one hand on my shoulder. "Lady Galadriel told me you carried the burden of future knowledge."  
  
"Thank you for understanding." I said, with a grateful smile.  
  
Legolas's eyes flicked up to the other shore, and his eyes widened as his elven eyes caught recognisable movement. He moved to the boats, starting to push one out.  
  
"Hurry, Frodo and Sam have reached the Eastern Shore!" he called, before he caught Aragorn's expression. The eager light in his eyes faded, and he said softly. "You mean not to follow them."  
  
"Frodo's fate, is no longer in our hands.' Aragorn said.  
  
"Then it has all been in vain." Gimli said heavily. "The Fellowship has failed."  
  
"Not while we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we hold true to each other." Aragorn said, his hands resting on our shoulders, drawing me, Gimli and Legolas into a circle with him.  
  
He spun away from us, slotting a curved knife into its sheath. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light." He turned back to face us, and the guise of Strider seemed to fall away from him and we could see Elessar before us. "Let us hunt some orc!" he declared, before he turned and began to run. Legolas and Gimli exchanged glances with me and each other, before Gimli gave wordless cry of pleasure, and followed him. Legolas grinned, almost viciously, before following.  
  
I grabbed my pack (specially lightened for this), before following, hoping that I would be able to keep up with the three. I knew the journey that awaited us in Rohan. 


	11. Rohan

Authors Note: None of Tolkien's creations belong to me, only Jen, Gyst and various Mary Sues who may appear do.  
  
---------------  
  
Our pace was gruelling as our feet pounded the ground of Rohan, chasing the Uruks. Legolas and Aragorn led the way, seemingly tireless as they eyes sought any sign of our quarry. Gimli legged behind, cursing to himself in dwarvish. I ran somewhere in between, concentrating on keeping my pace easy and loose. While I was never going to be as fit as some, I was fitter than the Jen that had arrived in the woods, what seemed like an Age ago.  
  
But even my newfound stamina proved difficult to maintain with no sleep, no breaks and only what food we could eat on the run. I found my eyes closing as I ran, slipping into an almost trancelike state, still following the others, my feet pounding out the rhythm.  
  
Then my questing feet, stretched out in my next stride, found nothing by empty air. I fell forward, eyes flashing open, body automatically curling into a ball. Down I rolled, and through a blur of green, blue and brown, I heard laughter. And as I rolled to a painful halt against a rock and looked back at my three laughing companions, I grinned to myself. Even in dark circumstances, at least they could laugh at me and forget some of their problems, if only for an instant. ------- Still we kept on running, and all my thoughts of the plot were lost in my need to keep up with the others, and to keep on going. So it was only when we started to cross a ridge and I heard the shrill challenging whinny of a horse did I realise what was about to happen. Aragorn halted for a moment, before urging us all with strong motions to head quickly for the cover of a cluster of boulders.  
  
He halted on the outskirts as first Legolas then myself dived for cover, followed by Gimli then Aragorn. And just in time, for no sooner than Aragorn had entered, that the first of the Rohirrim came over the top of the ridge. Their spears stood straight in the air, pennants flying from their tips, showing the running white horse on green that was the symbol of the Mark. Their eyes were fixed in the direction that they were going in, and their mounts moved at a steady and ground-eating canter.  
  
Aragorn shot us three a reassuring smile, before he stood and stepped out of cover.  
  
"Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark!" he called loudly, and I winced. Yes, he had been here before, and I knew the necessity of what he was doing in relation to the plot, but honestly, had the word 'secrecy' temporarily escaped his vocabulary?  
  
We stepped out from our boulders and watched as the horses began to circle around us, the spears of the Riders gradually getting lower and lower. While I could not help but admire the horsemanship of the Rohirrim in some part of my head, the other part was staring at the sharp wood and metal pointy sticks they held, trying not to think of kebabs.  
  
Aragorn was still smiling as the circle closed around us, and a thicket of spears was aimed at us. Then one Rider urged his horse forward, his eyes glaring at us from under his helm.  
  
"What business does a Man, and Dwarf, an Elf and a woman have in the Mark? Speak quickly now," he demanded.  
  
"Give me your name Horsemaster, and I shall give you mine," Gimli retorted quickly. Aragorn and I rolled our eyes, although I did mutter something relating to stiff necks and dwarves. The man on the horse stared at Gimli, apparently unwilling to believe that such a small person could be so insolent (and I was having trouble working that out in my head as well). He, who I knew was Eomer, dismounted, handing his spear to the Rider next to him.  
  
"I would cut off your head Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground," he threatened in a cold voice.  
  
"You would die before your stroke fell," and Legolas had an arrow ready to loose in a heartbeat.  
  
I prayed for Aragorn to speak, my eyes seeking his face. But his eyes had clouded over and he seemed to be staring off into a distance that none of us could see. I could see Eomer growing restive (well, I would have been the same). So despite all the instincts that I had not to interfere, I had to.  
  
I knocked Legolas's arrow aside with my arm, shooting him one of the glares that I had used to good effect on the children I had taught on occasion.  
  
"I am Gilraen, a ward of Rivendell, this is Gimli son of Gloin, Legolas of the Woodland Realm, and Aragorn son of Arathorn. We are friends of Rohan, and of Theoden, your King," I blurted out the words, using the first name that I could think of for my own. After seeing the reaction of the Fellowship to learning that I was a self-insert if you will, I didn't want to risk Eomer using one of the spears that was pointed at me.  
  
Aragorn blinked as I spoke his name, his mind obviously returning to his body. And from there, he carried on as if nothing had happened. I relaxed, attempting to hide, which was difficult as there were only four of us surrounded on all sides. The conversation continued between us, with myself trying to follow the words to make sure that if something strange happened again, I would be able to counter it before we were kebabbed for lack of courtesy, suspicion of being spies, or something else that Eomer and the Riders thought up on the spur of the moment.  
  
Then Eomer whistled, the sea of horses parting to let three through. I blinked. Three?  
  
"Hasufel, Arod, Gyst," Eomer pointed at each horse it turn. I ignored Hasufel and Arod since they were canon horses and stared at the plothole horse name Gyst. He was black and that was enough to raise alarm bells within my head. Sauron had used his orcs to carry off most of the black horses, and black seemed to be the mount of choice for Mary Sues. But Gyst seemed to be placid enough, and that was a good sign.  
  
By the time I had finished staring at Gyst, the Rohirrim were riding around, dust flying up from the hooves of their mounts. I turned to see them trail away, and turned back to find Aragorn eyeing me speculatively.  
  
"Can you ride?" he asked, indicating Gyst.  
  
I nodded, and with a quick prayer to Orome and Nahar, placed my foot in the stirrup and hauled myself upwards and into the saddle. Gyst reacted about as much as a brick would.  
  
Aragorn nodded before he mounted as well, with Legolas and Gimli mounting Arod. Gathering the reins of Gyst in my hands as I had been taught, I resigned myself to the fact of having a sore bum, and urged Gyst after the others.  
  
-----  
  
The plume of smoke that indicated where the bodies had been burned rose in a black cloud in front of us, calling us ever onwards. As soon as we could clearly see the pile, Aragorn was off Aragorn, tossing the reins in my direction. Legolas and Gimli followed suit with Arod. I stood beside Gyst, acting as the horse holder while the three searched desperately for any sign of the hobbits. Even I, who knew what had happened and knew where to look, had difficulty seeing anything.  
  
Gimli raked through the dying embers of the fire with his axe hilt, before halting and reaching forward. With a tender touch he held up a small belt that was instantly recognisable.  
  
"Its one of their wee belts," he said brokenly. Legolas stood by, murmuring something in Elvish, a lament I presumed. Aragorn stared for an instant, before lashing out with one foot at a helmet that lay nearby, sending it flying. Then he screamed, letting all his anguish out in his voice. His fists clenched as he fell to his knees, head bowed in sorrow.  
  
Then I saw her. She emerged from the forest, unstained by leaves or soil, her white dress gleaming in the light. Her pure black hair, as dark as midnight, gleaming like a raven's wing, fell to her hips like a silken curtain. Her silver and gold eyes were calm, filled with mystery and the secrets of the Ages. At her waist was belted a sword, the hilt of which gleamed with precious gems. In her hand she held a bow, strung with a single black thread.  
  
"Do not despair some of Arathorn," she said in a voice that was filled with all the music of the wild.  
  
I growled, shoving flowery descriptions from my mind. There was only one thing that she could, a Mary Sue. And that explained why Aragorn had gone silent. That was supposed to have paved the way for her to introduce herself and let everyone know how she was related to the three of the Fellowship. But I had stopped her that time. And I was damned if I would let her succeed this time.  
  
All her attention was fixed on the three around the bonfire, since I was another insert character who didn't belong here. I was practically invisible to her. And beside, I was female, unattractive and irritable, and therefore not a viable target. But she was a target to me.  
  
I dropped the reins of Hasufel and Arod (fortunately they appeared to be trained to ground tie) and took a tight hold on Gysts. I would only have a few minutes to act. I grabbed a charred spear shaft from the ground, the weapon of a fallen rider, and hauled myself into the saddle.  
  
Then I rode Gyst straight at her. I knew that horses would not deliberately ride over humans (and even though the species of a Mary Sue was debatable, I wasn't going to try), and so I would have to use other methods.  
  
I came up swiftly behind her, holding the spear shaft steady in my hand. The Sue was concentrating on maintaining eye contact, and her spell, with the three, and so the first that that she knew of my presence was when the shaft thudded solidly down on her skull. She dropped like a stone.  
  
I dismounted and thumped her again for good measure, just to make sure. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli blinked as though cold water had been thrown over them, and quickly their expressions of puzzlement switched to anger as they looked at the fallen figure.  
  
Aragorn kicked her, Gimli spat on her, and Legolas said something that sounded really unpleasant in Elvish. I thumped her again.  
  
Then suddenly, she was gone. I didn't know what had caused it, but I was glad. I went back to horse holding, while Aragorn stared at the ground where the Sue had lain.  
  
"A hobbit lay here," he murmured. "And another," his eyes moved slightly forwards. His hand brushed the grass as he tried to interpret the tracks. I grinned to myself as I watched Aragorn solve the mystery of the hobbits and their escape, while petting the plothole horse in thanks. Legolas's call jolted me out of my trance.  
  
"They entered Fangorn Forest Jen! We go in search of them, come on!"  
  
I sighed and followed them with my three horses, tying their reins to branches with quick release knots. I knew that we would be needing them shortly.  
  
And then I braced myself, and stepped after the others into Fangorn. 


	12. Edoras

Authors Note: None of Tolkien's creations belong to me, only Jen, Gyst and various Mary Sues who may appear do.  
  
---------------  
  
Fangorn was claustrophobic. I usually liked forests, but this one was old, full of strange creaks and groans. The air was hot and stifling, making it hard to breathe. And always on the edge of hearing was a whisper that itched and could not be scratched, a whisper of anger.  
  
Aragorn tried to track the hobbits, Legolas was reverting to childhood and Gimli was jittery. I tagged along at the back, resisting the urge to start yelling at the trees.  
  
We clambered over roots, through thickets of brambles and around trees, trying to play 'Follow the Hobbit'. This was fairly difficult as Hobbits rank third in woodcraft after Rangers and Elves. I lurked at the back, feeling like a chocolate teapot. But I was looking forward to seeing Gandalf again. Perhaps he would be able to help me return to me own time and world. But, I mused, did I really want to?  
  
This train of thought was momentarily halted as it passed through Thought Station - 'What the Hell" as Legolas took a funny turn. Even though he was facing in the completely wrong direction, his eye widened, his skin glowed and he announced in an eerie voice,  
  
"The White Wizard approaches."  
  
Elves. Drama Queens Extraordinaire.  
  
"Stay back Jen." Aragorn whispered quietly. I nodded and sidled behind the nearest tree, patting its bark to reassure it. The sense that I got from that was confusion, which made me grin a little. I peeked out from my scant cover to see the three turn, as a white light blazed in the clearing.  
  
I stood behind my tree, shading my eyes with one hand as I listened to the conversation. I briefly poked my head and hand round to way cheerfully at Gandalf before once more waiting quietly.  
  
-----------  
  
We got moving again fairly quickly, heading to the outskirts of Fangorn again. Whether the trees were helping to get rid of us, the unwanted intruders, or whether it was the presence of Gandalf the White that did it I didn't know, but we made swift time out of the forest.  
  
I retrieved the horses from where I had tied them, while Gandalf whistled up a Mearas. I stared. Shadowfax eyed me skeptically once he and Gandalf had exchanged greeting. I shuffled my feet nervously, remembering tales of Felarof, before waiting till the other four were distracted.  
  
"Lord Shadowfax, I swear I will not attempt to ride you unless I am bidden by Gandalf or given leave by yourself. "By my elbow Gyst whickered, perhaps, I thought fancifully, adding reassurances to my vow.  
  
Shadowfax stared at me a moment longer, before he dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. I sighed with relief. Annoyed Mearas were not good as the past showed, and since Shadowfax could sense that I wasn't from Middle Earth, that automatically made him suspicious. The poor dear wasn't very well treated by Mary Sues in fanfiction that I had read. Speed seemed to be of the essence (I could see that but my body insisted on complaining) and we were quickly mounted and riding again.  
  
The five of us galloped over the plains of Rohan, heading for Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. I was plotting what I would be doing. Elrond, in my eyes anyway, had a soft side, but Theoden was all steel. I may have joked with Elrond, but I would not try to cross Theoden.  
  
Gyst cantered onwards, following the white gleam that was Shadowfax, the tireless leader. I lost track of how long we rode for, sinking into a dream world of my own. I can't tell you what I thought about for my thoughts faded when Edoras appeared on the horizon, and gradually drew ever nearer.  
  
The golden roof of Meduseld gleamed in the sun, a flickering beacon that called to us. From the outside, you could not tell that darkness lurked within its walls.  
  
As we rode through the gates, my eyes momentarily looked towards the place where the chill white figure of Eowyn stood, and my heart ached for her, and what would happen to her in the future. Then my attention turned to the houses that we were passing. Fear was an almost visible cloud over everything. Voices were hushed and eyes were downcast. It gave me the shivers. Grooms held our horses as we dismounted, well, they took Hasufel, Arod and Gyst. Shadowfax walked alone, leading the way.  
  
Three armored men stepped out of the main hall, armor jingling. I fell into step with my companions, since it was difficulty ( not to mention impolite) to hide.  
  
Hama stepped forward.  
  
"I cannot allow you before Theoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By the order of..." he hesitated here and his voice held a hint of anger. "Grima Wormtongue."  
  
Gandalf nodded to us, indicating that it was safe to obey. I did, with some degree of happiness. I didn't think that I would ever make a swordswoman, but at least at the moment I was no longer a danger to myself.  
  
The arms of Hama's two companions were soon filled with the weapons that we gave into their safekeeping. Gimli in particular merited a few startled looked with the number of axes that he divested himself of. Satisfied, Gandalf nodded, before looking at Hama with a smile.  
  
"Your staff." Hama said almost apologetically. Gandalf looked at his staff as though he had forgotten he was holding it, tutted under his breath before looking back at Hama.  
  
"Surely you would not part an old man from his walking stick, hmm?" he asked and I had to stifle a giggle as his voice almost seemed to quaver. The ageless Istari acting the old man.  
  
Hama nodded before he turned to let us pass. Gandalf hobbled forward, taking the arm of Legolas as a support. I turned a laugh into a hasty cough as I followed behind.  
  
Hama remained behind as we advanced, Gandalf dropping Legolas's arm and striding forward. "The courtesy of your hall is greatly lessened of late, Theoden King." He called. I cast my eyes to the side as I watched Wormtongues lackeys approach. I sidled away from them choosing my own opponent for when the fighting broke out. Grima.  
  
Grima was currently whispering to Theoden and I mentally added the words.  
  
Then Theoden spoke. To me it sounded like he was trying to speak through a frog in his throat as well as through a mouthful of cushions.  
  
"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?"  
  
Then Grima stood and I continued my sidle.  
  
"A just question my liege. Late is the hour when this wanderer chooses to return. Lathspell I name him, Ill-news, and Ill-news is an ill guest."  
  
"Be silent." Gandalf commanded and I bit back a squeak. Brain, take an internal memo - To Jen, don't annoy Istari. Gandalf continued.  
  
"I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm." "His staff!" Grima lamented as the aforementioned object was practically shoved in his face. "I told you to take his staff!"  
  
Then chaos broke out around us as Grima's henchmen lunged at us. Gandalf continued to stalk towards Theoden, while Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn beat five types of hell out of their opponents. I launched myself in a flying tackle at Grima's legs, crawling up his body as he struggled and writhed. I did have to resort to biting him on the nearest part that I could reach (yuck) to get him to settle, before I made myself comfortable on his spine, holding his arms with my own. Gimli joined me and glared at Grima in case he should try anything, fingering his axe threateningly.  
  
I watched during the whole surreal three-way conversation between Gandalf/Theoden/Saruman, wriggling occasionally to remind Grima that I was still there.  
  
Halfway through Eowyn came rushing out of a sideroom to be stopped by Aragorn. Another figure also dressed in white moved behind her, so I twisted, stuck out one leg, and tripped her. Blasted Sues.  
  
As Theoden was healed, I bounced happily, earning a grin from Aragorn, and pained grunts from my Grima cushion.  
  
Then Theoden looked at me, or rather at my cushion, and I slithered off (with a parting prod). While Grima was being thrown down stairs and Aragorn and Theoden were testing to see who was alpha male, I stayed back, figuring that to stay quiet would be the best. And I had a decision of my own to make. The battle with the Wargs was rapidly approaching, as was Helms Deep. What would be the role that I would play? I had been lucky so far, but I didn't think that my luck would hold out. Nope, I was safer staying out of the way.  
  
And with that settled in my mind, I wandered off to be introduced, and to explore. And to try not to swoon over random Rohirrim. 


	13. Fleeing

Authors Note: None of Tolkien's creations belong to me, only Jen, Gyst and various Mary Sues who may appear do.  
  
--------  
  
We were fleeing Edoras. Theoden had decided that the city was too indefensible and that fleeing to Helms Deep, the ancient refuge, was our only chance.  
  
I stayed out of the way of the councils of war, and alternated between the stables, the kitchens and Eowyns room. I had asked her to teach me to use a sword since she was a shieldmaiden, and in return I told her stories. Stories about Aragorn, stories of battle and of my own world.  
  
The four occasionally came to see how I was getting on and coping with things. I generally told them that I was fine. And now that I had made my decision, I was a lot happier.  
  
When the time came to leave, things were quickly packed and sorted, and we were moving. I reclaimed Gyst, and was loaded with a variety of baggage and sent off. I had attracted a few peculiar looks from some of the riders, but with a quick explanation, I was soon pestered with questions.  
  
We set off, setting an easy but steady pace as we traveled onwards to Helms Deep. I rose in the middle of the group, being regaled with tales of Rohan and in turn telling tales of my own. I kept giggling at Gimli, who seemed to have taken over as the comic relief, and kept watching Aragorn and Eowyn, watching the embers between then kindle and burn.  
  
Despite the seriousness of the occasion, it was a good way to pass the time, and for a few minutes at a time, we could forget things.  
  
I did my best to keep alert, watching for a certain moment, when Gamling and Hama would ride forward, since that would herald the Warg attack.  
  
I really had to grit my teeth not to call out a warning, to tell the column what was going to happen and to try and prevent deaths and apparent deaths. But that I could not do. My brother was the one who understood about continuity and could tell you what would happen if a certain event didn't take place. I only knew that things would go arse over tit.  
  
And so it happened, and I took a firm grip on Gyst's reins as Gamling and Hama rode forward as scouts.  
  
Then as the Wargs attacked, chaos began to spread. Aragorn looked at me, asking with his eyes if I was going to join in. I shook my head and bit my tongue. There was no way that I would join in.  
  
Eowyn's voice rang out as she tried to order the people, subsuming her desire for glory in her uncle's order to remain with the people. I took a deep breath.  
  
"Calm down! Make an orderly move! The eored will protect us, there is no need to fear!" I called, straining to make myself heard as I had done a hundred times before in the classroom. I nudged Gyst forward, guiding the panicking people onwards. I could remain calm. For I knew what was to happen. Eowyn shot me a grateful look as she continued to chivvy the people onwards.  
  
-----------  
  
Helms Deep loomed on the horizon, even from this distance looking invincible. The sight was incredible, amazing and awe-inspiring.  
  
A ragged cheer rose from our group and the small child I had managed to acquire bounced on Gyst's back while I walked beside. Eowyn looked over at me, a faint smile on her face, though her eyes were worried.  
  
"We made it." She murmured.  
  
"Thanks to you." I returned quietly.  
  
Eowyn nodded, before she settled her burden more comfortably on her shoulder before she approached the gate, which gaped open to admit us.  
  
As we passed inside the fortress, on foot or leading horses, I marveled at the sheer thickness of the defensive walls, and at the crowd of refugees that were already inside. It would be difficult to fit us all in, but we had to. And there were always the caves.  
  
Gyst was unloaded and the baggage distributed, the child claimed by its mother. Everyone was given something to do, while we waited for news of the eored. I volunteered to look after some of the cooking, to avoid seeing the betrayal in Legolas or Gimli's eyes. They both knew that I knew the future, and to have apparently sent Aragorn to his death, they would hate me. I only hoped that if I was forced to reveal the truth of what had actually happened, they would believe me.  
  
I heard the clatter of hooves on stone ramps from where I industriously stirred a stew and had a vague cooking lesson from a matronly Rohirrim lady named Hanild, who had taken me under her wing.  
  
Rather than seek out Legolas or Gimli, I would let them seek me out. Perhaps the hunt might cool their tempers slightly.  
  
It did in a way. And it did prevent an ugly scene in front of many. Only Hanild was there to see an irate dwarf storm in, grab me by the arm in a vice-like grip, and drag me to an out of the way corner to argue.  
  
"How could you?" he demanded, glaring at me fiercely. "Have you no heart?"  
  
That accusation wounded me, and harsh words rose to my lips, words of things that I should not say. But I bit them back, choosing others.  
  
"Quiet Gimli. Give me a chance to defend myself against your accusations." I instructed. Gimli bridled, but quietened. I continued, the desperate need to make myself clear communicating itself clearly in my voice.  
  
"To tell you this may have changed everything. I could not risk a small change which might have affected everything in ways I couldn't see! I could tell you all I know, but then risk that ending changing because of my interference. And I couldn't do that to you. No matter what happened, what pain happens, I know what happens and I could not change that for any of you."  
  
"I, we, thought you cared for Aragorn. But you let him go to his death, dashing our hopes for the future, and now, you do not even mourn him! Not a tear have you shed for him, and no sorrow is in your voice."  
  
That did it. It was most definitely not a wise thing to do, but my hand lashed out and cracked across the side of Gimli's face before I could stop it.  
  
"I do not mourn Master Dwarf, for Aragorn is not dead." I hissed, fury boiling within me, both at myself for losing control in this way, and at Gimli. But there was no way I could have stopped the flow of words. "He fell over the cliff into the river and drifted downstream. He lies on a bank now, thrown up by the current, dreaming of Arwen. A horse will seek him out and he will see the enemy as it marches here to Helms Deep. He will return to this fortress to warn Theoden. Then the battle will truly begin. And that is why, Gimli, I do not mourn, for one who is not dead. And you speak to me of his future? I know /all/ that he will become. I know what lies before all of you, but I do not, can not, will not speak of any of it to you, not matter how much I love and care for you."  
  
I trailed off, the words sticking in my throat and choking me, blinking through tear blurred eyes at Gimli who stared at me, a red mark appearing on his face. I fell to my knees, shaking with the passions I had just exhausted.  
  
Then Gimli hugged me, whispering words that I could not understand as my tears soaked his shoulder. And all was forgiven between us.  
  
I swore him to keep this a secret from all but Legolas, and he agreed, but nothing could conceal the spring in his step as he left. And I grinned through my red eyes to see it. But I would have to coach my two friends in their words and reaction when Aragorn returned. That way I might be able to avoid doing any damage. Then I went back to my cookery, under the rather bemused Hanilds supervision. Mind you, one word was enough to make her nod in understanding, before turning her attention back to my pot. And the word was,  
  
"Dwarves." 


	14. Helms Deep

Authors Note: None of Tolkien's creations belong to me, only Jen, Gyst and various Mary Sues who may appear do.  
  
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It was hard to judge time, since Helms Deep didn't have any clocks around (in fact, I wasn't even sure if clocks were invented at this time.) But I managed to work my way to a spot close to the main entrance armed with a bottle of water and some old cloths.) Had to get Aragorn looking vaguely spruce when talking to the King.  
  
I had coached Gimli and Legolas in what they had to say and do, and was majorly impressed with their acting abilities. If they were ever brought to my world, a part in Hollywood could beckon, which would be interesting if they ever bumped into Orlando Bloom or Jonathan Rhyss-Davis.  
  
I sat quietly in a corner, teaching some of the younger Rohirric children counting games and rhymes. We were in the middle of a spirited game of "Fizz Buzz" when I noticed a ragged, tired and familiar figure making his way up the steps.  
  
"Back in a tick." I whispered to the child next to me, who nodded before yelling out an enthusiastic "Fizz!"  
  
I dashed over, catching the end of Legolas's words and giggling, before grinning at Aragorn.  
  
"Now hold still." I instructed him as I quickly poured water onto the cloths and started cleaning some of the muck and dirt off him. Aragorn stood, putting up with my ministrations, a faint smile on his face for my fussing. Then with me finished, he stepped forward, heading for the doors.  
  
I giggled again, before heading back to my game with a joyful "Buzz!"  
  
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The bad news was delivered, ten thousand Uruk-Hai were marching on Helms Deep, Isengard unleashed. An organized chaos swept the Deep, with the soldiers of the eored rounding up men and boys of the right age to issue them with arms. The women were instructed to take our belongings and take shelter in the caves.  
  
I had a discussion with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli about the upcoming battle and made it clear to them that I would not be fighting, but I would also be one of the last to enter the caves. I didn't give them all of the details (because I was keeping a close rein on my tongue) but they picked up that something was going to happen that I wanted to see.  
  
So while I waited for Haldir to arrive (even though he really shouldn't be there, and it was slightly annoying that he was, but I digress), I busied myself with strapping on armor, handing out swords, and handing out what words of comfort I could.  
  
Then a single trumpet blast rang out, silver echoes ringing in the dark air. I grinned at the startled reactions that all around gave, and with a final pat to the bindings that I had just tied, I hurried to the main gates. I stared as the elves of Lothlorien and Rivendell marched up, moving in perfect step with each other, their faces expressionless. It was though they were reading each other's minds for their positions. In this grey light, their ethereal glow was more obvious, and more awe inspiring. Haldir led the way, red cloak flowing from his shoulders.  
  
And now that I had seen the Elves arrive, I could make my way to join the others in the Caves.  
  
Words cannot do justice to the sight of them. Every direction you looked in brought something new to see, and light brought out new dimensions. I could see why Gimli would go mad over them. I could see why dwarves went mad over stones and caves.  
  
I was asked for an explanation of the trumpet that had been heard, and so that everyone could hear, I clambered onto a boulder and called out the news of the Elves arrival, and the fact that they had come to honor the old alliances that many had thought dead. I described the scene as best I could, drawing on my experience of a writer to tell the tale. Then I descended from my rock and went to find my baggage, which Hanild had carefully kept with her. It would be a long night.  
  
Only faintest hints of the battle above reached us as it began, the occasional roar or scream, a yelled command.  
  
"You seen edgy." Hanild noticed, before adding "But its different somehow." I jumped slightly, drawing my eyes down from the ceiling where I had been picturing the battle.  
  
"I'm just worried, as we all are." I replied. "But how do you mean, different?"  
  
"You seem to be focused on something." Hanild tried to explain.  
  
"My friends." I tried for the simplest explanation that I thought that Hanild would accept, but something in her face showed me that she didn't believe me.  
  
But them something stopped me from having the answer. The earth under us seemed to shake as a roar echoed tremendously. I sighed. I knew very well what that was. Nervous whispers and rumors spread around, speculations about what it could be.  
  
Hanild regarded me. "You knew that was going to happen." She said, and it was a statement, not a question.  
  
I slowly nodded. "That is part of the troubles that I carry." I said. Hanilds hand reached and gripped mine, squeezing gently in understanding.  
  
"Is there.... is there anything that you can tell me?" she asked, and I could read the emotion in her eyes.  
  
"We win through." I said simply, deciding that now that we were engaged, it was not worth concealing the facts. "But it is a difficult struggle. No others should know this fact though."  
  
"I understand." Hanild smiles as she squeezed my hand once more. "Rest now if you can now child." She advised. "Time will go slowly here in the Caves."  
  
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I must have slept, though how I'm not sure. The noise from inside had increased as the tension rose, worry was etched on every face. How long I had been asleep for was hard to tell, but I doubted very much that I had been calm enough to sleep through the whole nights fighting.  
  
But my body surprised me, when a thunderous boom was heard.  
  
"They're breaking in!" cried one of the women, voice filled with fear. The tension in the room increased dramatically, tears streamed down faces and children were clasped tight as the women gave into their fear. Hanild, even though she knew what the outcome would be, still looked terrified. I could have screamed with the pressure in the air, but I did not. Instead I rose to my feet, like a person in a dream Eowyn said later, and clambered back onto my rock, cupping my hands around my mouth.  
  
"Hearken unto me people of Rohan!" I called as loudly as I could. "Hearken unto a tale, a tale of valour, bravery, and the courage of the people of the Mark, who stood where others would have fled or fallen."  
  
All eyes were on me now. Normally I would have quailed at the sea of humanity before me, but adrenaline raced through my veins and conquered all of my fears. I stood there, arms at my sides and drew on all my knowledge of story telling to weave a tale of the present.  
  
"Dark were the days in Rohan. Storm clouds gathered to the North and the East. Ill counsel guided the Sons of Eorl in their ruling of the Mark. But unlooked for, hope came out of the West, gleaming in the rays of the blood red setting son. And ill counsel was cast aside as once more the swords of the Sons of Eorl were brought forth from their sheaths and raised skywards in defiance of the ones who would be ruler of all Free Peoples.  
  
But the forces arrayed against them were too great, ten thousand strong, and caution had to be used. The Sons of Eorl took refuge in an old fortress, built many years ago by a hero of their people. No enemy had ever breached its sturdy gate, and the hearts of the Sons of Eorl were filled with courage.  
  
But the enemy came. In the rain, a field of tossing fire advanced towards the dike as they moved to attack. But the Sons of Eorl did not stand alone. Elves from the woods of legend stood beside them, honouring ancient allegiances.  
  
And the scene was set for a mighty battle, to secure the freedom of the Mark from all who would oppress it and grind it under heel.  
  
Blood flowed from swords and coated the stones, of intruder and defender. Many fell, Elves, children of Eorl and the enemy. But still the advance continued.  
  
Through foul sorceries brewed in a far distant tower, the Wall was breached. A black swarm invaded the Deep, where no enemy had set foot before.  
  
All seemed lost as the defenders fell back against the seemingly invincible horde. Until at last, only one last bastion held out. The Tower. All seemed lost and the people despaired as the enemy drew closer. Then hope turned to the King, who despaired for his people.  
  
"Let us ride out together." Quoth Hope, and the King's eyes lit with a fiery light. The King commanded steeds to be brought, for if their lives were to end, he would have them make such an end as to be remembered for all time.  
  
And steeds were brought, valiant horses of the Mark, swift and sure-footed, beyond compare. And then, as the horn of the long remembered hero rang out once more in the Deep, striking echoes from the rock, the King stood in his stirrups and cried out.  
  
"Forth Eorlingas!"  
  
In a clatter of hooves and the jingle of bright mail they rode, and none could stand before their advance. The enemy fled in disarray at the ferocity of the riders and any who remained were crushed under hoof and the bright sword.  
  
Through the gate and down the causeway they thundered, dealing death to every side. And then, to the East, the first rays of the rising sun gilded a white figure on a white horse.  
  
"The King stands alone." Quoth he.  
  
Another voice spoke now, grim, but a fell joy was in his eyes.  
  
"Not alone. Rohirrim!"  
  
And an eored appeared, called by the White Rider from plains far distant, lead by the Kings sister-son.  
  
Together they charged, pennants flying and bright spears aimed at the black infection which stained the land.  
  
Up rose the sun, sending pure fear into the hearts of the enemy. And as a wave meets the shoreline in a glittering crash, the two forces met. And the cry rose up from the throat of the King, as he held his sword aloft. "Victory!""  
  
I fell silent, emotionally drained by the present that I had recounted and shaking as every eye was on me.  
  
"The day was concluded, and the Sons of Eorl were triumphant" I concluded in a shaky voice, stepping down from my rock. The tale was told, the battle was won.  
  
And a fierce joy flooded me. We had survived! 


End file.
